


Colors

by Littlemetaldevil



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9602042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlemetaldevil/pseuds/Littlemetaldevil
Summary: Gerard is an artist, he's able to create worlds with the flick of his wrist, but the most beautiful world he's ever seen lives in Frank Ieros eyes.Gerard is an artist, Frank is his canvas





	1. Pastels

Gerard is an artist, with a few flicks of his wrists he's able to create a picture perfect world where everything and everyone is immortalized and perfect.

Though, today he wasn't trying to create a world, he was trying to capture one. The man was sitting a few tables away from him, a pen behind one ear and his eyes scanning some sort of book.

His eyes were the most beautiful things Gerard has ever seen, they were full of light and magic, even if he was doing something as mundane as reading the book. He was perfect and Gerard was desperate the capture him.

With a few strokes of his pencil the outline was almost done, his hair was framed perfectly against his face, his lips were full and slightly pouty. He was beautiful. He was perfect in every way.  
Gerard had trouble capturing the world behind his eyes, the colors were too vibrant, but at the same time muted, too dull but at the same time alive. 

It was something Gerard has never seen before.

After several minutes of hyping himself up, almost convincing himself that it was a waste of time twice, Gerard stood up, walked over to the man and said, "Hello."


	2. Charcoal

"Uhm, hi?" Frank looked up from his book, his eyes feeling heavy and hard from being trapped in the pages for so long. He hadn't noticed the person standing in front of him until he heard the tapping of a pencil against the wooden Formica. He blushed as he realized that he might've kept the other man waiting for a long time.

"Hey, uh, sorry." Frank's voice was rougher than usual, he hadn't spoken all day except to order his now cold coffee. He had trouble meeting the man's eyes, his eyes nervously flickering to his hands, a flash of heat crawling up his face as he realized that he had been zoned out on the man's face for a moment. 

"Uhm, I know this is kinda weird but I was wondering if I could..."

Frank arched an eyebrow, surely this guy wasn't asking for a hookup? "If you could...?" 

The stranger's free hand went to his red hair, lightly tugging on a strand before smoothing it back. He was a jumble of fidgety hands, and nervous smiles.

"Can I sit here?" He asked quietly, gesturing to an empty chair across Frank.

"Sure man, it's a free country." Frank took a sip of his coffee, cringing slightly as the cold concoction slithered down his throat. The stranger sat down rigidly, tapping his fingers on the faux wood, he couldn't seem to relax, switching from humming under his breath to outright belting out a few lines every now and then. 

Frank sighed softly, glancing at the page number he had been on so he could come back to it later. 

"Uh....," the stranger looked as if he had something he wanted to say but didn't quite know how to get the words out.

"Mm?" Frank noticed how the man was eyeing his coffee cup. 

"Can I uhm, have that?"

"My coffee?"

"Well, yeah." 

"Dude what about stranger danger?"

"What?" 

"Your parents never taught you not to drink out of stranger's cups?"

The man flushed red, he clearly didn't think of that. "I don't want to drink out of it, dummy."

Frank raised his eyebrow again. "Then what do you want it for?" 

"Give me the cup and I'll show you." 

Frank sighed, figuring he just better do what the guy wanted, plus he was curious on what the hell a stranger was doing with his coffee.

"You've any cream?" Frank's eyebrow rose higher as he realized that the guy was pouring some of the coffee into it's accompanying saucer.

"I fucking hate cream, I only drink black." The guy looked up incredulously, staring into the cup as he realized it was indeed pitch black.

"You're fucking weird, black coffee's nasty."

"Says the person using my coffee cup." Frank shot back. The stranger rolled his eyes, getting up and making his way over to the coffeeshops counter, his book left unattended Frank took it upon himself to see what he was reading.

Flipping to the front pages Frank came to the realization that it definitely wasn't a reading book he was holding. Each page had been covered with drawings, each in varying degrees of completion. They were all signed with the same name, Gerard. 

Flipping to the last page Frank was surprised to find a drawing of himself from that very morning. His legs crossed under the chair, one hand was poised, supposedly brushing back his hair, while the other was holding the paperback he'd been reading moments prior.

A strong grip pulled the book out of Frank's hands, startling him enough that his knee hit the table, sending a container of toothpicks flying. He turned to see the stranger, presumably Gerard, looking down at him with one hand on a hip while the other was balancing a stack of creamer. 

"Uh, I uh..." Frank stammered.

Gerard plopped down into his seat, ripping open a creamer and pouring a few drops onto the saucer. He seemed more focused now, unlike the shy person Frank had tagged him as when he first met him. With a flick of his wrist he turned to the last page again, quickly sketching eyes before dipping a strewn toothpick into the now lightened coffee before transferring the mixture onto the page. Instantly the pulp soaked up the coffee, giving the eyes a hazel color.

"What're you doing?" Frank asked, jumping back slightly when Gerard's head bobbed up, his eyes gazing intensely into Frank's.

"Didn't quite get the color..." He murmured.

"What color?"

"Your eye color." Gerard said simply before standing up again, this time with the book tucked under his arm. "See you around."

"Wait what? How're you just gonna leave me hanging after you drew me?" Frank watched as Gerard made his way to the door, a gray beanie hiding some of his hair.

"Check your napkin," Gerard called back. Leaving Frank to hurriedly snatch up the napkins littered around his table until he found the one Gerard had been referring to.

He had his phone number.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry the chapters will be longer


End file.
